


party lights and cobra venom

by cherry_umbra



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Backstory, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), also its not clearly said but ghoul is trans, funkobra and jetpoison on the side, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22403581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherry_umbra/pseuds/cherry_umbra
Summary: The Venom Siblings.  The basically-leader and their right hand of the Fab Four. The wonder - blah, blah, blah. Party Poison and Kobra Kid had many names and titles throughout the zones, but only a few had any shred of reality in them.But these two, some of the most well-known ‘joys out there, weren’t always as bright and brilliant as they are now. It sounds as cliche as possible, but there’s really no other way to describe it.
Relationships: Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	party lights and cobra venom

**Author's Note:**

> uhh i forgot to mention this last time but i have a tumblr!
> 
> @eclipsed-calderas !
> 
> i don't post a lot of danger days or mcr stuff but feel free to stop by and say hi!
> 
> also could you tell i took a few days break halfway through and was very tired when writing

The Venom Siblings. The basically-leader and their right hand of the Fab Four. The wonder - blah, blah, blah. Party Poison and Kobra Kid had many names and titles throughout the zones, but only a few had any shred of reality in them. 

But these two, some of the most well-known ‘joys out there, weren’t always as bright and brilliant as they are now. It sounds as cliche as possible, but there’s really no other way to describe it.

Fun Ghoul was born and raised in the desert, so he wasn’t as well-versed in the wicked ways of BL/ind (aside from tales from others) as them. He didn’t know the intimate details and the  _ terror and oh god, what did they do to you - _

Jet Star had lived in the city, but left pretty young. Not young enough not to remember almost anything, but young enough where the exact details were blurry and  _ please look at me, please remember -  _

Party and Kobra weren’t so lucky. It wasn’t until about, say, 5 years ago that they had been able to escape by the skin of their teeth. Party was about 17 at the time, Kobra about 15, not that anyone really kept track of time anymore and  _ we have to leave, please stop taking my punishments, you know what’s going to happen next time -  _

~~

Life in Battery City could only be described as dull and numb, yet full of fear. 

As a kid, and thus semi-immune to most of the drugs the city had everyone on, Kobra (his city name was dead and gone, no one but BL/ind knew what it was and he would be damned if they tried to use it against him) was loud and questioning. The exact opposite of what all the mean adults in white and gray wanted him to be. And he liked that. But his parents and sibling didn’t. They told him that something  _ really  _ bad could happen if he didn’t calm down, but he didn’t believe them, at first. Then they would tell him twisted tales of the Killjoys that lived in the desert, who left their perfectly fine lives and perfectly happy families. The Killjoys who killed anything that made them the slightest bit annoyed.

Even as a young boy, Kobra was curious and observing. The desert had traces of radiation in its far reaches, it would scorch and then freeze, and had barely any resources for miles around. If everything was so fine in Battery City, then why would they leave safety? Why struggle when…

A few years later, he began to put pieces of answers together.

It was an accident. He didn’t know what came over him, but he punched that boy in class. Later, two men in suits and masks came knocking at the door to their home. White and gray, white and gray, white and gray.

The men told his parents that he needed to go with them, because he needed to be… taught a lesson. Party (Kobra refused to call them by anything else, and he would rather die than call them by that cursed name again) rushed into the room, saying that they had been the one to tell Kobra to hit that boy. To take them instead. The men looked at each other, before grabbing their arms and leading them away.

He didn’t see them for a month.

When they came home, they didn’t look at him with that light in their eyes. They were flat and forced into the box BL/ind wanted them and the rest of society squished in.

That day, he learned two things. 

That he hated BL/ind for taking Party’s light, and that he would try his damned best to make sure it never left again.

It took what seemed like a small eternity, but the light eventually returned. When it did, Party told him they didn’t remember much after they were taken.

~~

For a few years, all was well. 

But then, the men came again.

Apparently, Party had said the wrong thing to the wrong person, and they had to be “re-educated”. The siblings shared a sad, longing look as they were carted off.

This time it two months for them to come home.

And even longer for the light in their eyes to shine again.

~~

Not even three months later, it happened again. But that time Party was taking the hit for their brother. The one good thing in their white and gray life.

Surprisingly, Party came home after a week, with a letter held loosely in their hand.

Kobra still has nightmares about that  _ damned letter _ .

Their parents weren’t home, so he hid it under his bed. The stoves were electric and the “fireplace” didn’t have actual wood and fire in them, and there were no candles or matches or lighters. Hiding it was.

~~

He waited for them to remember, for the sun to rise in their eyes. He waited, he waited, he waited.

Weeks turned into months, and months turned into a year. The glow still didn’t shine.

It was their 17th birthday that the dam broke, and once the “celebration” (if you could call a few cards passed into Party’s hands and a cake that tasted like dry flakes a celebration) had ended, he pulled them aside.

“@#!&%, look at me,  _ please _ .”

Chocolate eyes turned to him, but their mind was off somewhere he couldn’t reach.

“What is it,” they droned. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Practiced and recorded.

Kobra grabbed their face, one hand reaching up into their hair and scritching at a spot he knew calmed them down, made them laugh, but nothing in that pale face changed.

“Oh god, what did they  _ do _ to you,” he whispered. Kobra pressed their foreheads together, something Party used to do (and still does) when he was sad.

“Please,” he begged to  _ somebody _ out there, “please remember me, #@!%&.”

And then the tears streamed down his face, as he pulled them close to his chest (he was a bit taller than them, even then).

There was a beat of silence, before tentative and shaky hands laced themselves around his back, “...$#@&%?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” it felt  _ wrong _ to pull back, like he needed to shield them and never let them be hurt again.

But he needed to be sure.

Lo and behold, cocoa eyes that probably held the sun in them, shined up at him.

“We need to get out of here,” his mouth was moving faster than his head, but he was always one to cut right to the point.

_ They’re going to kill you  _ (or worse, but he  _ refused _ to think about that)  _ if anything happens again  _ went unsaid.

Party smirked, “Guess we’ve got no other choice, eh? Mh, this place  _ was _ gettin’ pretty boring.”

“What, the blanks in your memory not keeping you interested?”

It felt weird, to be joking about  _ that _ , but if one of the few things in your immediate future was death, why not go out with one last laugh?

~~

Somehow, they got out.

Somehow, they lived.

Barely.

The change from the controlled temperature of Battery City to the  _ wave _ of dry, hot air, nearly knocked them both out, a couple of Dracs had started chasing them, and the loose sand wasn’t helping them run. 

Yet, here we are.

The rest is a bit of a blur, everything happening so fast.

They found Ghoul in a diner, trying to fix part of the roof of what used to be a kitchen after a particularly bad sandstorm. He was pretty short, and closer to Kobra’s age. He had some scars, despite being pretty sheltered, most notably on his face, chest, and arms.

Then Jet crashed into their lives a few months later. Quite literally. Party had taken their little group on a joy ride with the newly-fixed Trans AM ( _ if it has even the barest  _ resemblance _ of a scratch, you’re both dead _ , Party had said). 

Around sundown, they had stopped at the local “bar”, and by the time they came out, he was fast asleep against the hood.

Party had yelled everyone’s ears off (Kobra wouldn’t be surprised if the people in the bar could hear them, even through the music) about the tiniest, minute,  _ nick _ , where the zipper of Jet’s jacket had landed when he passed out.

After just a year, the Fabulous Four were together.

~~

Kobra and Ghoul had been together for a while, it being about a year and a half since they all became a group, laughing their asses off (in private, of course) as they watched Party and Jet dance around each other until one fateful morning Party had walked out of their room with a small bruise on their neck. And Kobra knew that only two people were allowed anywhere  _ near _ Party’s neck was Party themself and Kobra.

Jet had walked out a bit later to see Kobra sitting at one of the few booths that still had a table, one leg crossed over the other, alone.

“Sit,” he said.

That wasn’t ominous at all.

So Jet, ever the people-pleaser, did.

“Look, I know we, as a whole group, have been together for a while, And I know you, and I know you wouldn’t do anything.” Kobra took a very large knife out of… somewhere, and stabbed it into the table, next to a row of six other holes, “But just so we’re clear.”

The blond then removed the knife, and walked off. And for a while, Jet sat there.

Ghoul, his hair a mess, walked in from the kitchen, and when he saw a mortified Jet Star and a new hole in the table, he smirked and walked over.

“I see Kobra gave you the talk.”

“I… feel like ‘the threat’ would describe it better,” Jet tried (and failed) to not notice that three of the seven marks had red lines drawn over them.

Ghoul laughed, opening the can of Power Pup he had snagged, “Yeah. But don’t worry. The mortality rate is only about fifty percent, well, more like forty-two now, but who’s counting?” 

That did nothing to soothe Jet’s nerves.

Sensing this, Ghoul clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry. Kobra likes ya, Jetty,” Ghoul, the bastard, knew that had it been anyone but him, they would have been punched for using that nickname. “Don’t do anything stupid, such as, say, break Party’s heart into pieces, an’ me an’ Kobra won’t have to gut you.”

Again, that didn’t help.

~~

“Ya know, Kobes, I think people would be more open to working with us an’ being friendly if you didn’t scare ‘em off if they even look at me.”

“What? I would never!” he gasped, placing a hand over his chest in faux offence.

“Bro,” Party sidled up to him, nabbing a cigarette from the pack in his hands, “I know you gave my boyfriend “The Threat Talk”. We both know Jet’s too much of a sweetheart to do anythin’.”

Kobra grunted, passing them the lighter that was, somehow, still kicking. “Eh, can never be too sure. That look he gave me was hilarious, though.”

_ I just want to make sure you’re happy, after everything you’ve done for both of us _ , went unsaid.

That’s just the power of the Sibling Sense.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah not really sure what this is, other than a stitched together and, honestly, kinda rushed backstory
> 
> and the reason they have their kj names in the city and when they're talking its bleeped out bc i couldn't think of names
> 
> this ain't my best but, hey i tried
> 
> so long and goodnight!


End file.
